The Death Eaters Messenger
by symphonynumbernine
Summary: A dark mission has been imposed on Abby Hifinny, scion of an aristocratic wizarding family. A burning ambition and desire to prove herself to all is the only thing that fuels her actions and her live. A dark story. Freshly Edited
1. The Mission

C H A P T E R 1

Abby Hifinny's parents circled around her slowly. Abby could hear every breath they made.

"You understand young Abby, that we are doing this to save all our lives. You must go to Hogwarts, you must kill Harry Potter."

"Must kill Harry Potter . . . must kill Harry Potter . . . kill Harry Potter . . . kill . . . Potter" the words echoed and re-echoed in her head. The same words following each other around and around in her head in an unending circle.

"must kill . . . must kill . . ."

"What's that?" the inquisitive face of Victor turned to face her.

"Huh? Oh . . . uh . . . nothing" Abby had not realized that she had muttered what had been consuming her mind for the past month out loud in the cabin in Hogwart's Express.

"Well, are you going to have something from the trolley or not? In the mood for chocolate frogs?" Victor offered.

"Um, yeah" Abby made a move towards her small purse of wizarding money which lay next to her.

"Don't worry about that. My treat!" Victor waved his hand dismissively and stepped outside the compartment to where the trolley stood.

"Whew," Abby slowly breathed out and leaned back against her seat. She put her hand up to her forehead and found that she was perspiring slightly. She quickly wiped her forehead with her hand and then grimaced slightly as she saw the sheen of moisture that covered her hand. To think, Abby Hifinny loosing her cool! What had she been brought up on? What a disgrace to her parents' lessons!

Those lessons . . . Abby's brow creased ever so slightly as she remembered as from a great distance . . . a wooden cane held high in the air, clutched by a pale hand . . . the fire burning in the hearth, burning so hot, so hot!

"What's with you Abby?" Victor asked as he stepped inside the compartment with his arms laden with an assortment of student "delicacies."

"You've been so . . . I don't know . . . so distant over the holidays and now you don't even respond to Malfoy when he was practically all over you just right now!" He deposited his armload of goodies on the seat beside her and sat down across from her. "I had to push him away from you! I don't think you even noticed!" Victor's dark, glittering eyes looked earnestly into her face, peering anxiously into that perpetual cool mask of hers to find something, anything as to what was going on behind it. He sighed and leaned back. As usual, he had failed to find out anything. His face grew dark.

"That creep, Malfoy. He acts as if he owns the whole damn train! And more besides!" Victor looked meaningfully at Abby.

"Be careful of who you call a creep. You how important it is to make powerful connections," the infuriatingly cool response from Abby only served to deepen Victor's scowl. His silky black hair, which he kept long, fell over his eyes. He folded his arms in a rare attitude of defiance.

"Simply because he is a 'Malfoy', doesn't mean that he can do anything he wishes. Especially another pureblood family equal in status such as yours!" he stated quietly but emphasizing every syllable through a clenched jaw. His eyes glittered menacingly. Abby surveyed him with cool eyes but was more than a little surprised to see the tension in his body such as the barely suppressed tension of a tightly wound coil.

Abby elegantly raised an arched eyebrow.

"I've never seen you in this mood before, Vic. It becomes you, you know. Especially considering the family background you have," Abby commented. Victor's scowl only deepened. He moved to pick up a chocolate frog beside her and slowly started to open it.

"It's not as if I asked to be born into the Grant household," Victor murmured quietly. Abby gave a small smile. Yes, she thought, Vic was ever so gentle, unlike the rest. She pulled back her hair from her face and let it fall back behind her shoulders, preparing to satisfy Victors' inquisitive nature.

"For your information, I did notice Malfoy. I was trying to see how far he would go. I can turn his interest into something useful, you know," Well, it was at least partly true, Abby silently added.

"I'm sure he would have gone very far!" He retorted back sharply. "As if he'd never seen a girl before. . ." Victor spoke under his breath but Abby lost the rest of his sentence.

"Believe me, Vic. I wouldn't have let him have his way. You know me. I would have turned the tables on him so quickly he wouldn't know where he'd be standing by the time I'd finish with him!" Abby said serenely, never doubting herself.

"Yeah, maybe," Victor looked at her doubtfully. "Well I don't think I've succeeded in making any kind of connection with him except in a negative way. I think it's in dire straits," Victor informed her. Abby chuckled from deep in her throat, sounding more like a purr.

"You did an impressive job of towering over him with the height you've gained over the summer." She smiled again (the only small smile that she allowed herself) at the memory of the scene that had transpired barely half an hour before.

Victor glowering down at Draco from his height of five feet eleven inches had been a very funny scene since Malfoy was shorter by at least a head. It had been a rare moment where Crabbe and Goyle, Malfoy's cronies, had miraculously disengaged from Malfoy's side to gorge on the goodies from the trolley. Draco's face had gone beet red, absolutely dumbfounded that a person would dare roughly handle the Malfoy heir.

"Don't you dare touch her again," Victor had said tightly.

"Are you threatening me?" Malfoy replied slowly, "Have you forgotten who you're speaking to?" Malfoy growled, eyeing Victor menacingly. As poisonous as his glare was, Malfoy was impressively disadvantaged by the towering height of Victor.

"There's nothing wrong with my memory," Victor stepped closer to Malfoy and was practically breathing down on him. "It is you who should be careful," Victor had said threateningly.

"It is you who should remember his place among the true purebloods. Hmmmm. Indeed, I think the servant's job of a bodyguard would truly suit a Grant such as you," he said mockingly. He sneered at him and walked out of the compartment smugly, knowing he had made a score against him. Victor was shaking like a leaf with his fists clenched tight against his sides. This time he was the one who was red in the face. Abby had to guide him to a seat for him to cool down. She did not remember anything after that for she had lapsed back into a trance-like state thinking about her 'mission.'

"Malfoy's going to pay for what he said. Just because he's a Malfoy . . . " Victor went on going red again in the cheeks.

"Don't do anything foolish Vic. Making a connection and alliance with a Malfoy is a chance of a lifetime," Abby replied firmly.

"I wonder if you would say the same thing if he had said that about your family," Victor replied indignantly. Abby sighed.

"In these times we must make alliances instead of feuds. Especially since Dumbledore is said to be gathering friends about him," Abby said lowering her voice. "The Dark Lord is establishing his own power base and he will be the one victorious but there is always that thorn of Dumbledore."

"You speak as if you're already a Death Eater," Victor whispered, taken aback by the total seriousness with which she spoke. Abby gazed at Victor showing nothing, her gray eyes looked as if it had been chipped from a glacier. She turned her head without saying anything to face the pile of chocolates and sweets next to her. Victors' own chocolate frog box lay half opened on his lap.

All of a sudden there was shouting coming from the main passage outside the compartment of the train. Abby looked up sharply and the both of them got up at the same time. The shouting did not end and the passage outside the compartment grew noisier with the sounds of other students moving out in the passage. Abby was already standing outside her compartment, with Victor looking over her head and the heads of other students.

"Of course, only another Malfoy/Potter encounter would make this much noise!" Victor bent down to tell her, a smile tugging at his lips, amused. Abby wanted to see what exactly was going on. All these people were in her line of vision and bumping into her. This was far from disrespect; it was indecent! Abby kept a check on her anger knowing that these insignificant people around were simply more absorbed in another confrontation between Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter than in making sure to not to step on any nobles' toes. So was she, and with as much dignity she could muster she pushed through the crowd to the front with many a "Watch it!" "Stop pushing" "There's not enough room!" She met each exclamation with cool indifference though she was bubbling hot inside. Finally, she saw the back of the perfectly combed platinum blonde hair that was characteristic of the heir to the Malfoy throne.

"Give him back, Malfoy," said a short boy. Abby thought. The messy mop of black hair characterized him as the one and only Harry Potter, Abby concentrated on the face she had looked intently upon so many times before. His bangs covered the scar that she knew slashed across his forehead. Behind round glasses, piercing green eyes looked out angrily at Draco. Those eyes could bore holes into someone once incited, though most of the time they sparkled with laughter and mischief. Right now they were doing a good job of piercing into Draco though the recipient acted unfazed, apparently more interested in what he held in his hands.

"Pathetic isn't he? What is he good for anyway? Oh right! He croaks!" Crabbe and Goyle who had resumed their customary station besides Draco snorted derisively. Abby stretched her neck and tried to find what it was that he was referring to, but from her vantage point, she had a good view of his back.

"I'm asking one last time, Malfoy, give him back," Harry said angrily.

"Oh, and if I don't? What if I keep him, you know, like on a loan, and make a few, let's say, improvements to this disgusting specimen. I think Longbottom would like that," Draco said nastily. Abby had scooted to the side against the wall of the passage and finally saw what the point of interest was. Draco, had been right, the toad that was clutched in his pale hand was truly pathetic. While speaking, Draco had taken out his wand and was pointing it ominously at the miserable creature. The thing croaked unhappily.

"You say so much as a half a syllable to him, you'll pay," Harry said, also taking out his wand and holding it ready. Draco narrowed his eyes.

"All right, I'll finish with this pathetic thing, and then I'll see to you," Draco gestured towards the hapless toad. What sounded like a very definite squeak came from behind Harry's shoulder. Abby looked at the source of the sound noticing the boy that stood shaking next to Harry for the first time. He was rather chubby and a look of pure fear was on his face. Was this the Longbottom that Draco referred to? Abby wondered.

"What's this? What's this? I would like to know what in the world all this commotion is for!" The chubby lady who pushed the trolley of goodies was pushing her way through the crowd from behind Harry and moved to stand looking at both Harry and Draco. She looked at one smug and slightly exasperated face to the other glowering one and looked suspiciously at their wands. "Well, what is all this about?" she said gruffly her hands on her hips. Harry opened his mouth but Draco answered first.

"I just found Longbottom's toad in my compartment, Miss, and I was just about to return it." Draco drawled.

"Well, get on with it, return him. There's no need for wands, anybody would have thought you too were dueling," she said hurriedly. Abby could see she was worried and out of her depth here. She did not have any real authority over the children and she was not here to keep control of these masses of students. She just wanted to see no mishap in the train and in Abby's opinion, did not want to get messed up with any Malfoy.

"Here, Longbottom. Be careful you don't let go of him near a pond. He just might drown," Draco sneered at him as he returned the unhappy toad to its shaking master. Draco, Crabbe and Goyle moved away chuckling and the rest of the students dispersed to their compartments, some secretly disappointed at the interrupted fun. The lady in charge of the trolley, Abby had never bothered to find out her name, walked away with a worried look on her face though it was being replaced by an expression of relief.

Abby had not moved as she continued to study Harry. He was turned towards the frightened Longbottom, his hand on his shoulder comforting him. Two anxious faces gathered around the two. Abby recognized them immediately as Harry's friends. One was the girl with Muggle parents, and an insufferable know-it-all. The other tall boy looking down on the rest of the company had the red hair and freckles characteristic of all the Weasley family. Abby remained concentrating on Harry, lost in her thoughts, and did not notice footsteps approaching her. The power of her gaze made Harry look up and finally notice her. The other three stopped talking and followed Harry's gaze to place her. Abby felt a hand on her shoulder. Abby started and turned to find Victor looking down at her curiously.

"Let's go Abby. It's about time we put our robes on. We'll be at Hogwarts in a little while." Victor said quietly. Yes, Abby thought, it would be an interesting fifth year at Hogwarts. She walked down the passage with Victor looking curiously at her, not looking back at the foursome who also shared Victor's curiosity.

"Must kill Harry Potter . . . must kill . . ." unbeknownst to Abby a fine cover of perspiration covered her forehead.


	2. The Sorting

C H A P T E R 2

Hogwart's Express arrived at Hogsmeade station with a great billowing of steam. The sounds of a journey and quest successfully carried out were the thoughts that Victor Grant associated to the scarlet train's last exhalation of breath.

"You know Abby, the only relationship we have with Hogwarts Express is that it takes us from home to school and back a few times a year. But who knows what other adventures and other terrains it crosses in the space of time we students don't use the train. I mean is this train only used for the students few times a year or after completing tonight's journey, does it have another place to travel to tomorrow instead of King's Cross station or here at Hogsmeade?" Victor said thoughtfully to the window that looked out to the station and a starry night. He turned to face Abby questioningly. She was braiding her hair in a single plait but she looked up at him with her characteristic smile.

"Don't get too philosophical on me, Victor. You know, that's the problem with you," Abby replied standing up and throwing her braid behind her, which fell to her waist, "You're always wondering about things that don't have anything to do with you. Always dreaming about far off, probably non- existent places when you should be here in the present.That is the only thing that kept you from being a prefect along with me," she said reproachfully as she straightened her Hogwarts robes and carefully positioned her prefect's badge on her uniform.

"Does the fact that I'm sorry make any difference?" he said smiling at her.

"No," she said looking at him archly. "The problem with me is that if I keep sticking around you I'll always be late for my duties!" She strode importantly out of the compartment to go and open the doors of the train, but she gave a parting look at him to make sure that he knew that she was only joking with him. Victor waved her away still smiling.

"Hogwarts!" He exclaimed quietly as he adjusted his robes one final time. "Home sweet home!" he sighed contentedly.

Victor was not the only one who arrived at Hogsmeade station with the feeling of homecoming. Harry Potter exited the train and was greeted with the all familiar sight of the first friend he had made.

"Alrigh' there, Harry?" came the gruff voice of Hagrid from the platform. The bearded face was illuminated by a lamp held close to his face. Harry grinned up at the half giant.

"Yeah." He replied with a feeling of relief that surprised him.

"Ron? Hermione?" Hagrid picked the two out from behind Harry with his eyes. Harry's best friends looked up at Hagrid grinning and replied in the affirmative. "Righ' then," he smiled the corners of his eyes crinkling in the process. He grinned when he saw the shiny badge that proclaimed Hermione a prefect. "Good job, Hermione!" he said happily. Hermione beamed. Hagrid looked about him and bellowed, "Firs' years! Firs' years, righ' this way!" but Hagrid did not move to lead the first years off to the lake but stayed in front of Harry and leaned down to speak to him. "Now, Harry, it does my heart righ' good ter see yeh alrigh'. But I don't want no funny business from the bunch of you this year. Understood? Things are changing and times are not good. Jus' mind yer own business and keep to yerselves and don't try to save the world, alrigh'?" With that Hagrid straightened up and addressed the huddled crowd of first years that had assembled behind him. "Alrigh' firs' years, righ' this way," he shouted out and tromped off heavily with the first years in awe, dumbly following behind.

"You know, Harry, he's right," Hermione anxiously said behind him.

"Leave me be, alright?" Harry replied, barely able to contain his irritation. Hermione looked down at her feet.

"Come on, before we're late to the feast! I'm starving!" Ron said earnestly, wanting to keep Harry from moping.

"You're always starving, Ron! One wouldn't think that you'd just stuffed yourself with chocolate frogs!" Hermione said exasperated but glad to move away from the awkward situation.

"Hey, I'm a growing teenager. I need to get all the nutrition I can get." Hermione only snorted in response. Harry smiled a little at this. The two had been going on like this almost throughout the whole train ride. The trio made their way to a horseless carriage that for once did not smell so musty. He closed his eyes once inside the carriage not taking part in the conversation of the other two. He was back at Hogwarts and he was glad. He had always felt safe in the huge sprawling castle and this time was no exception. Yet, always the nagging worry at the back of his mind ate at him. How safe was he really? Voldemort had bypassed the defenses of Hogwarts last year through his most faithful servant. At the memory of the chain of events last year, instead of the grief he had experienced initially, a strong surge of anger rose in his chest. The truth was, he had had enough of Voldemort. So many people had died, and all because of him! Hermione disagreed of course in her ever-practical manner and he knew she was right but he could not get over Cedric Diggory's death. He wanted Voldemort finished so that there would be no terror in the world because of him and family's would not have to suffer anymore. He wanted it more than he could say and if he voiced the full extent of his feelings to his best friends they would only worry.

"Harry! I'd say that you've grown maybe two inches this summer!" Ron exclaimed, there was an edge to his voice as he addressed Harry anxiously. Harry forced himself out of the dark world of his thoughts with an effort and managed a weak smile.

"You wish, Ron," Harry replied, though, he was not really sure how much he had grown this summer, but he had outgrown his robes from the previous year.

"What do you think, Hermione? I'd say he's getting a bit too tall for being a Seeker, eh?" Ron said cocking his head in Harry's direction.

"Yeah? And your stomach is growing too large for your height!" Harry replied chuckling making an attempt at conversation (he had caught on to the worried look in their eyes.) Ron placed his hands protectively over his stomach.

"There's nothing wrong with my stomach!" he said innocently, "I eat the right amount for a person my age!" he replied adamantly.

"As much as a giant your age!" Harry grinned. Ron looked at him with relief and laughed.

"Who do you reckon they'll make Captain of our Quidditch team, though?" Ron said moving away from the topic of his amazing appetite. The rest of the way to the castle was spent discussing the merits of Fred and George, Ron's twin elder brothers and the other team members of Gryffindor's Quidditch team. By the time the trio had reached the Great Hall and took their places they had all agreed that either Fred or George would probably make the captaincy. Ron joked that since Harry had grown so much over the summer, they might move him from being Seeker to Captain with a different position on the team. They were all immediately silenced for the Sorting however and the Sorting Hat burst into an all-new song this year. Harry let his eyes drift from the assembled first years to the faculty table. He gazed at Dumbledore sitting at the center of the faculty table. He couldn't believe how relieved he was to be back in Hogwarts. All the familiar faces, back with his friends; seeing Hagrid and Dumbledore; being surrounded by people who accepted him and even idolized him; it was all a welcome change from two months of the Dursleys' ignoring him and pushing him around with the ever present look of half fear and half anger in their faces. There were the familiar faces at the table such as professor Binns and yes he was relieved even to see the scowling professor Snape and the rest. It seemed that Hogwarts was as it always was though he knew it was an illusion. Harry was surprised to see Mad-Eye Moody sitting next to Dumbledore and there was a witch sitting next to Moody who he did not recognize. As the Sorting Hat sorted another Ravenclaw he sat back and let the tension that had been pent up inside him all summer ooze out of him to the floor. They were right though, Hermione, Ron, and Hagrid. Saving the world could wait a while, he thought and he looked up to watch the rest of the sorting, content for the moment.

Victor and Abby endured the rest of the passage to Hogwarts castle with Vanessa Danaby who announced to anyone who was within shouting range that she was "Abby's closest friend." She latched on to Abby's arm with the adherence of a leech. She looked up at Victor with twinkling eyes. Realizing she had made a mistake, then corrected herself, again at the top of her lungs, "_One_of her closest friends," and gave Victor such a fawning smile that it was all that Victor could do to keep from gagging.

"Oh my God Abby, you've become a prefect!" she squealed. Shegave Abby such a tight embrace that Abby's breathing was hampered for a moment. "You didn't tell me, you secretive girl!" she said waving her forefinger at Abby as if she was a naughty child. Abby gave a small cough, rubbing at her throat after Vanessa loosened her death grip. Abby gave a bland look to her "closest friend" in reply. However, Vanessa plowed on, hardly taking a breath. "You know, I've hardly seen you this summer! I heard that at least a hundred parties were held at the Malfoy mansion! Too bad I was in Spain all this time and you wouldn't believe the things I saw like . . ." Vanessa slipped her arm through Abby's and chattered on while Abby looked stonily ahead walking towards the carriages that would bring them to the school. Victor inwardly groaned as he faced the prospect of the ten minutes journey to the castle full of Vanessa's gossip. He did not understand Vanessa's perseverance in becoming Abby's friend. Abby had always showed Vanessa nothing but icy indifference to all her attempts at intimacy. Victor tuned out Vanessa's monologue as he got into the carriage after the girls and sunk into meditative contemplation while Abby barely responded to Vanessa's one-sided conversation.

"My, Victor, haven't you grown handsome over the summer," Victor snapped out of his meditative state and glanced at Vanessa. Her eyes were gleaming in a way that made him uneasy. He looked to Abby and saw her mouth was twisted in an expression which he knew meant that she was amused.

"Watch out Vic, you'll be getting the whole female population of Hogwarts running after you this year," Abby said. Victor glared at her and knew that Abby had found something new to amuse herself with. He scowled at the girls and turned away from them. However, he could not shut his hearing to what they said.

"You always do end up with the best, Abby," Vanessa said wistfully with a hint of jealousy. "But if you want to keep this one, you'll have to tie him closer to you more firmly otherwise, others will take advantage of his loose binding." Victor could not believe what he was hearing.

"I am no possession! How can you speak of a person like they were a . . . a thing!" he spun around and shouted.Far from being embarrassed and taken aback, the girls were amused. Vanessa's eyes were bright and full on Victor while Abby had her mouth covered with her hand, laughing inwardly. The carriage came to a stop and Victor jumped out without another word and stomped off leaving the girls behind. On his way to the Great Hall, he was able to shake off his bad humor by renewing acquaintances with friends he had not seen over the summer and by the time he had taken his seat in the Great Hall he was calm and on the verge of nostalgia. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he found Abby beside him. He could see that she was still amused but he was relieved that Vanessa was nowhere to be seen.

"I remember our sorting. Especially, when you were sorted. You were so small then." Abby whispered as the Sorting Hat burst into its song. Victor nodded for that was exactly what he was remembering. "Well, smaller than you are now in any case," she went on. "I had serious doubts about you. I seriously thought that you might get into Gryffindor, even Hufflepuff! You really showed me, though. You showed us all that day!" Abby gave a slightly wider smile than usual, the one that he had learned meant that she was proud. She turned to watch the sorting as Professor McGonagall read the names of the first years from a large scroll. Victor paid no attention, though, for Abby had opened wide the gates of his memory back to that eventful day. That day when he had proven himself to his family and friends, and especially his parents. The sorting of the first years wore on as Victor relived the day that had redefined his life.

Eleven-year-old Victor Grant was excited, for he had just laid eyes on tiny Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. He had not been able to catch sight of the legendary scar for he was always being jostled by the excited crowd of first years as they stood outside the large doors that lead to the Great Hall. He was also nervous and his stomach would do a funny flip-flop whenever he looked at the huge doors. How he hoped to be sorted into Slytherin! He did not know how his parents would react if he got sorted into any other house. Probably ignore him for the rest of his life, or even worse, they might even disown him. He felt cold and sick at the pit of his stomach at the thought. But more than that, he would not be in the same house as Abby! That was an even worse prospect than that of his uncaring parents. He knew with a certainty that Abby would make it to Slytherin house. All her life leading to this moment she had been prepared and trained to join the Slytherin legacy. While, his parents, on the contrary, barely spared a minute for him. First, his birth was unexpected and another child to the Grant brood was unwanted. Then Victor had begun to show an unlikely nature of gentleness from childhood. When his parents deigned to notice him on rare occasions they were disgusted with what they saw. Once he had committed the sin at the age of five to show compassion for the house-elf. His elder brother had whacked the poor creature across the room for some perceived incompetence and he had cried unceasingly after he had seen the pain on the house-elf's face. After that incident, he had not been able to sit properly for a week.

The young Victor shook himself from that memory. He knew his family hailed from a long line of proud Slytherins. And his father talked darkly of an unexpected break in this tradition that that person would pay and everybody in the family knew to whom he referred. The truth was, he would be too far gone to even care of what his family would do to him, for then he would be separated from Abby. He knew he had to remain with her. They had been friends from as far back as he could remember, and he also knew that Abby's life was dark, indescribably dark. After every confrontation with her parents she would always be found with Victor. She never talked about what happened in her house but she would remain with him until she recovered herself. She would come to him shivering uncontrollably, breathing hard, and would not allow anyone to touch her. She would stay with him for hours until she was calm again and when she would speak to him that was when he knew that she had survived yet another bout with her parents. If he was put in another house, he would be broken from the constant contact with Abby and he believed that would be disastrous for his closest friend. Furthermore, if he were sorted into Slytherin, there would be a stop to all the sneers that accompanied him when he walked in the hushed halls of his home.

He had not even heard what Professor McGonagall had said to the first years and simply followed the crowd into the Great Hall when the doors opened. Neither did he hear the song that the Sorting Hat had sung that night. I have to get into Slytherin! I have to get into Slytherin! was the only thought that kept echoing inside his head and even made out

onto his lips as a perverse mantra. He would have stopped muttering it if he had noticed the odd looks he was getting from the people around him. His name was called all too soon, and he started. He looked around to Abby, who was calmly standing next to him. Why wasn't she called first? he thought. Oh right, they were calling them in alphabetical order, he remembered as he walked to the stool, sweating. As he sat down, Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat onto his head. The hat dropped down to the top of his nose. He was startled by a voice that seemed to sound from inside his head.

"Well, well, well. A Grant! Hmmm. a different type of Grant! Let's see . . . yes . . . suprising! Unexpected abilities I see. Aah! Very loyal! Mmmm . . . what a gentle nature! Yes, very strong loyal streak in you. You would do very well in Hufflepuff! Yes, yes!"

"No, no!" Victor muttered. "Slytherin, Slytherin! Please!"

"You wish to prove yourself so Gryffindor would also be a good place for you," the hat went on blithely. The knots inside his stomach melted away into the heat of his rising rage. A strong wave of anger was rising from a place within, a place he had not known ever existed. No one and especially no thing was going to keep him from attaining the one thing he had wanted throughout his short life. He had endured all that had been thrown his way, all his life. But he would not take being put in another house away from his one friend and a life. He gritted his teeth in anger as his left hand gripped the edge of the stool fiercely, his nails digging into the wood. His other hand slipped into his robes to take hold of his wand. No one and especially no _thing_ was going to keep him from getting to his goal. His anger fueled strength into his arms and splinters dug in to his nails. He gripped his wand with a viselike strength.

The hat stopped abruptly in the middle of its musings. Victor was breathing hard.

"SLYTHERIN!" bellowed the bedraggled hat.

Victor gasped out of surprise and looked around him bewildered as the hat was taken off his head. He let go of his wand and walked shakily and dazed to the Slytherin table where all were clapping. In no time at all he saw Abby walking to the Slytherin table and sat down next to him.

"You made it Victor! I can't believe it!" Abby's eyes were wide and she was smiling proudly.

Victor returned to the present in a rush. The sorting had come to an end and Professor Dumbledore was standing up.

"A few start of term announcements. First years, take note that the Dark Forest is strictly forbidden for all. Secondly, our Care of Magical Creatures instructor will not be with us for some time due to urgent business elsewhere. Professor Gubbly-Plank will fill in for Rubeus Hagrid in the time he will be gone. Sadly, she is not with us this evening but will join us tomorrow. Thirdly, we have a new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher this year, Professor Arista DeBloom." The witch sitting next to Moody stood up and nodded to the students. She sat back down quickly. "Professor Moody will be assisting her from time to time, and I assure all of you he is the genuine Professor Moody, but he is here mainly to insure all of you will be able to pursue your academic interests in a safe environment." Professor Dumbledore put his hands together in a gesture of finality. "And that is all. Enjoy the feast." The plates set out before the students were instantly filled with food and Victor dug in with gusto.

On the other side of the Hall, at the Gryffindor table, Hermione seemed to be struck with a revelation.

"No wonder Hagrid gave us that speech to mind ourselves at the station! As if he wasn't going to see us again! I suppose its got to do something with his mission he had to do over the summer," Hermione said thoughtfully.

"It's too bad that he won't be staying with us," Harry said sadly looking up at Hagrid at the faculty table.

"I wonder if Professor DeBloom is any good," Hermione said also looking at the same table. "She's frightfully skinny don't you think?"

"Well, as long as she isn't Snape, she's good enough for me. But I suppose if she could learn to eat like Ron, she could get rid of that bony look!" Harry grinned at Ron. Ron had not said a word since the food had appeared on the table. His plate was piled with meat and an assortment of pies and was chewing at a chicken leg.

"What?" Ron said as best as he could what with food in his mouth. Harry and Hermione just laughed at the funny picture he cut out. Ron simply shrugged and went back to his meal.

At the end of the feast, Hermione went to escort the first year Gryffindors to the common room while the rest of the Gryffindor house sleepily made it to their common room ahead of them.

As Harry got under his bed covers, he found himself glad to be back in the place, which he called home. "There's no place like home," he muttered as he remembered Dorothy from Wizard of Oz.

"No place like home" was the last murmur that escaped Victor Grants lips in the Slytherin boys' dormitories. He slowly descended into the world of comfort and fantasy, which finds its home among the soft feathers of the pillows.

In the Slytherin girls' dormitories, however, Abby lay wide-awake on her bed with the Boy Who Lived on her mind, far, far away from the sweet dreams that had eluded her for years.


End file.
